First, then, love.

At noon, He Zheng did not go to the SWAT team; he took a day off instead.

He was cooking in the kitchen.

A heavy cleaver slammed onto the solid wood cutting board, producing a dull, powerful "thud."

Cut the scallions into thick sections, slice the ginger into large pieces, and chop the black goat meat with skin into large chunks.

Heat oil in a pan and sauté until fragrant.

The aroma of white pepper explodes in the air instantly—spicy, pungent, yet warming.

Shu Yao didn't get up until 1 p.m.

My bones feel sore and weak, and my groin is burning with pain.

She wore a thick, creamy white cashmere sweater, making her look like a bulky polar bear.

She wore a pair of loose-fitting silk wide-leg pants underneath.

She hates wearing stuffy cotton pants because they make her skin feel uncomfortable.

Barefoot, without socks, she stepped directly into the fluffy slippers.

We trudged along, taking our time, until we reached the restaurant.

He Zheng carried out a huge black clay pot.

Place it on the marble dining table.

The sound was a bit loud, and the soup was churning violently in the pot, with white steam rising.

He was wearing a black, tight-fitting short-sleeved shirt, his arm muscles were bulging and his lines were hard and cold.

The kitchen was very hot, and he even had a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

One was cold, the other hot; the two sat together as if they lived in two completely different hemispheres.

He Zheng pulled out a chair, sat down, and looked up.

My gaze followed her silk trousers down to her bare, white ankles.

His eyebrows instantly furrowed into a tight knot, and his face darkened.

"Going barefoot in this freezing weather, don't you want to lose your legs?"

His voice was harsh, with a lecturing tone.

Shu Yao sat in the chair and subconsciously tucked her legs in.

"The underfloor heating is on, it's not cold," she stubbornly retorted.

"Not cold my ass."

He Zheng didn't indulge her. He stood up and strode back to the master bedroom.

When she came out again, she was holding a pair of thick wool socks.

The color is dark gray, and it looks prickly.

He walked to her side and squatted down with his tall frame.

He grabbed her ankle with one hand and ruthlessly pulled her foot out of her slipper.

It was ice-cold to the touch, without a trace of human warmth.

"Hiss," he gasped, his brows furrowing even more. "It's freezing cold and you still say you're not cold? Are your lips made of ducks?"

He put those hideous wool socks on her feet.

The movement seemed rough, but when it reached her heel, the force was subconsciously softened so as not to hurt her.

Shu Yao looked at the dusty, thick socks on her feet and frowned in disgust.

"It's so ugly, it looks like something an old lady would wear."

"If you think it's ugly, then freeze. If you catch a cold, I'll have to make sure you take your medicine."

He Zheng stood up, ladled out a bowl of mutton soup, and placed it heavily in front of her.

"Drink it, then sweat it out."

Shu Yao held the bowl and drank it in small sips.

The mutton was stewed until tender, the broth was rich, and the spiciness of white pepper flowed down the throat and into the stomach.

My body finally warmed up a bit, and a thin layer of sweat appeared on my forehead.

But the chill in my hands and feet still lingered.

As night fell, the cold air intensified.

Icy rain began to fall outside the window, pattering against the glass with a sound that sent chills down one's spine.

In the bedroom.

After taking a shower, Shu Yao sat down at her dressing table.

She applied layers of expensive body lotion to her body.

She rubbed her icy hands, opened the master bedroom door, and quickly crawled into bed.

The silk quilt is very thick, but it's cold inside as soon as you get in.

She shivered from the cold and curled herself up into a tiny ball, like a shrimp.

He Zheng had just finished showering and came out.

This man was used to taking cold showers, even in winter, he would only turn the water temperature to lukewarm.

He was damp, wearing only a pair of black cotton sweatpants, with his upper body bare.

She lifted the covers and lay down inside.

The mattress sank in slightly.

He Zheng seemed to have a built-in high-powered heating rod.

As soon as I lay down, the air around me instantly warmed up.

The heat is continuously radiating, scalding hot and powerful.

Shu Yao closed her eyes, feeling the astonishing heat emanating from beside her.

She moved her body, her hands and feet were numb with cold, and her toes were frozen stiff.

Before, when I slept alone, I could only stay awake until the middle of the night, warming the blankets with my own body heat before I could fall asleep.

Right now, there's a ready-made human-shaped self-propelled heater right next to us, so why not use it?

Shu Yao bit her lower lip.

Her body moved silently toward him, like a snake drawn to warmer temperatures.

He Zheng was leaning against the headboard, holding a tactical atlas written entirely in English, and looking at it intently.

He didn't look up when he noticed her approaching.

He simply lifted a corner of the blanket, scooped her up with his long arm, and pulled her directly into his embrace.

"Not sleepy?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.

The vibrations from her chest traveled down her back, giving her a strange sense of security.

Shu Yao didn't say anything.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

My legs are stretched out in the blankets.

Then, a pair of feet, frozen like ice cubes, went straight and decisively.

It was inserted between the man's legs.

It was precisely applied to the warmest and most sensitive part of his inner thigh.

Bone-chilling cold meets extreme heat.

"hiss--"

He Zheng gasped sharply.

In a fraction of a second, all the muscles in his body tensed up like a block of iron.

The tactical atlas in my hand almost hit my nose.

The soft flesh on the inside of my thighs was so cold that it gave me goosebumps, and the tingling sensation went straight to the top of my head.

He turned his head sharply, his dark eyes fixed on the woman pretending to be dead in his arms.

My temples are throbbing.

"Murder of her husband?"

The voice was squeezed out from between his teeth, low and hoarse, carrying a strong warning and a hint of gritted teeth.

Shu Yao not only didn't dodge, but shamelessly burrowed her toes even deeper.

She was tightly sandwiched between his burning hot legs.

Comfortable.

It was so warm, it felt like putting my feet in lukewarm water, and my frozen blood started to flow again.

"cold."

She spoke with a self-righteous air, her voice soft and slightly nasal.

"You're hot, warm me up."

He Zheng's Adam's apple bobbed violently, producing a clear swallowing sound.

This woman is truly fearless.

In the dead of night, wearing a sheer silk nightgown, she shoved her icy feet into the man's most sensitive spot.

He was a normal man, and the lustful desire within him was stimulated by her cool, slippery instep.

In an instant, it spread like wildfire.

Shu Yao's foot twitched in surprise, and she instinctively tried to pull it back.

"It's too late."

He Zheng threw down the book in his hand with a thud.

He yanked the blanket off.

His tall body flipped over and pressed down on her, trapping her completely beneath him.

He didn't kick her cold feet away.

Instead, he stretched out two large, burning hot hands.

He grabbed her two restless feet that were trying to escape.

The large hand completely enveloped her feet.

The calluses on her palms rubbed against the delicate insteps and soles of her feet.

Once, twice.

The force was just right, bringing a burning sensation and a tingling feeling.

"You keep saying you're cold, but you won't wear socks when I tell you to."

He looked down at her, cursing coldly and harshly, his tone harsh and full of dissatisfaction.

"Serves you right for freezing to death. Did you really think I was made of iron?"

He cursed fiercely, but his hands moved with surprising patience.

Little by little, I massaged her stiff, cold toes.

The man's palms were large and incredibly warm.

A continuous stream of heat emanated from his rough palms, penetrating her skin and flowing through her blood to every part of her body.

Shu Yao was stunned.

She thought he would get angry, find her annoying, and kick her out.

Or you could simply transform into a wolf and use that as an excuse to take advantage of her.

But he didn't.

He gasped for breath from the cold, his body felt like it was about to explode, and his eyes were so dark they looked like he wanted to devour someone.

But his first reaction was to warm her with his own hands to relieve her cold.

Only a dim bedside lamp was on in the bedroom.

The soft light fell on He Zheng's sharply defined profile.

It softened his bandit-like demeanor and revealed a rare gentleness.

Shu Yao leaned against the pillow and looked at him.

The softest corner of my heart felt like it had been violently struck by something.

It feels sour, bloated, and hot.

Her heart completely softened.